


The Matter Baby

by greypaint (knightinshiningpjs)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Baby's First Fanfic, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron), M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt Being a Little Shit, Slow Burn, Summer, hunk being the ultimate best friend, i love that that's a tag, kind of, more tags added later??, shiro is keith's guardian, there will be more on that later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-09-12 16:05:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9079777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knightinshiningpjs/pseuds/greypaint
Summary: Near death experiences can be just the thing to start a friendship.Near death experiences can be just the thing to end a relationship.Thankfully, moving on can heal both._____________________Okay so originally I posted this under a different name, but I completely rewrote the first chapter and I like it better than the original? My writing style is very inner monologue and I really wanted it to be more descriptive, I'm trying to move more into that, so hopefully I'll be able to grow with this fic. The title comes from this comic that constantly makes me laugh by westerngenre on tumblr (http://westerngenre.tumblr.com/post/147882676693/coran-from-a-distance-nothing-sweetie-whats-the)Alternatively titled: get your shit together, keith





	1. Riptide

The water was cold, the sun was hot, none of that was surprising given it was June in Florida. It also wasn’t surprising that Keith was regretting not reapplying sunscreen because he could feel his skin blistering in the uninhibited UV radiation. Shiro was going to have his ass when he found out. If he found out. Which he most likely would. Keith was not quiet about pain, especially not sunburn. Sunburn was like a papercut, more painful than it looked. He would probably end up with aloe vera slathered on his back for a few days, but it didn’t seem worth the trip back to shore. He was already farther out in the waves than anyone else, which meant wading through a sea of people in an actual ocean. Not something he particularly wanted to do.

A dunk under the cool water helped to ease the heat building in his shoulders, and when he surfaced he rubbed at his eyes. Once his vision came back from the slight blur, he realized he wasn’t actually farther out than everyone. One lone boy was staring at him from across thirty feet of water, face scrunched up when they locked eyes. He put two fingers to his eyes and gestured them back and forth between Keith and himself and took five steps further into the ocean.

Keith frowned at him and the boy only grinned triumphantly, as if he’d won. Unfortunately for him, a challenge wasn’t something Keith passed up lightly. He took ten steps further out.

The boy took ten more.

Keith took fifteen more.

By the time they were thirty steps from where they started, Keith could no longer stand, instead wading in the water as it came up to his neck, toes barely grazing the sand when he sank low enough. At least his shoulders were cooling off. The boy must have been taller, or the sand bank must have been higher where he was, because Keith could tell he was still standing, looking confident that he would win their little battle.

“You scared?” the boy called out to him, eyebrows pulled together mockingly.

“I’m not scared!” Keith shouted back.

As if on cue, the water started pulling at Keith’s legs. He glanced down as if he could determine what was going on under the murky water. When he looked back up, his look of confusion and panic was mirrored on his competition’s face.

They barely had a chance to yell before they were pulled under. Keith’s legs were swept out from under him, sending him careening to his left side. The current was strong, and Keith tried to be stronger, but nature has a way of reminding people how powerful it is in devastating ways.

Keith had one moment of clear thought, and used it to take back what he had said. He was very scared.

The water knocked what little air was left in him right out. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t scream. He could only wait until it stopped and he was gone.

As he drifted into darkness, he swore he could see white pinpricks of light. Maybe it was his mind giving him a last moment of peace to think about the stars. This was probably what it was like to be lost in space, floating in nothingness with only darkness around him.

He’d always wanted to see space.

 

 

He was coughing then, his lungs burning with each exhale and inhale that he tried to take. He was rolled to his side by a hand that felt too warm on his clammy skin. There was water, salt water, being expelled from his lungs onto the sand beside him. Once his lungs had mostly emptied themselves, his stomach did the same. There was quickly hands in his hair, pulling it back from his face and lifting his head as gently as they could manage.

There was a voice trying to cut through the water in his ears, and even in his disoriented state, he could tell it was Shiro. Shiro, the brother he never would’ve seen again if the ocean swallowed him up. 

His head was being cushioned now on a pair of legs that more than likely belonged to his best friend and guardian. His arms were heavy, so, so heavy. It took him a great amount of effort to move his hand up to Shiro’s leg, his fingers curling around the neoprene of his wetsuit as much of it as he could manage as a blanket was pulled over him. He needed to hold on to Shiro to make sure he wouldn’t lose him. He’d been too close to it after his stupid competition with--

He tried to get out the words, but when he attempted to inhale enough air to speak, fire ripped through his lungs like claws. Instead he gripped Shiro’s suit tighter and shook.

“It’s okay, Keith, it’s okay.” the man assured him, voice sounding much more human now. He ran his fingers through Keith’s hair, frantic, not like he usually would when they had movie marathons on their beat up couch. It was probably fear that caused it. Fear was so prominent now. Keith shook his hand again tugging harder this time.

Shiro seemed to understand, “You’re both okay, Keith.” he tried again. This time the shaking boy settled, allowing himself to try and come down from his panicked state.

Saying he was scared was an understatement. Near death experiences did that to a person. Shiro tugged the blanket further around Keith’s body and the crinkling of it was clear now. He could hear many people talking. There were so many tones, exasperation, relief, fear, empathy, too many for Keith’s mind to wrap around. The one he fell back on was comfort. He pulled at that like it would keep him safe, like the grip he had on Shiro’s suit. 

He was glad, however, that he’d survived. It hurt like hell, and his body felt like lead, but he was alive. He was glad the other boy was too. He probably felt the same. He wanted to see with his own eyes though, even if Shiro had ensured his safety.

It was too fucking bright. There was the sun, already blinding enough, but it was like it was set on high. There was the sand, reflecting the sun, warm against his cold body, so he supposed he could forgive both the sun and the sand. He curled into the blanket more as he willed the cold away. It was Summer. The only reason he should be cold was if the AC was turned up too high. There was also lights, flashing red and blue, the ambulance that held the paramedics who probably saved his life and his new buddy’s, so he could forgive the lights too.

He still squinted against all of them though, nose wrinkled up like he’d smelled something foul. Which, he did. Salt water and vomit.

That wasn’t important right now, what was important was the, yet again obnoxiously bright, highlighter yellow of another crinkly blanket, much like the one trapping in what little body heat he had. A shock blanket wrapped around the gangly frame of a boy too cocky for his own good. He leaned heavily on a larger guy who was talking a mile a minute. They were making their way slowly to an ambulance, funny, because Lance was the name his worried friend was using so frequently, as if affirming to himself that ‘Lance’ was alright. The same way that Shiro addressed Keith by name every time he spoke to him.

Shiro spoke to him again, “Keith, do you think you can move?”

The way his body felt, he doubted it, but he was a stubborn, stubborn person. The competition was still on. If Lance could make it to the ambulance, Keith could too, and he would do it faster. 

That was so much easier thought than done though.

It took him a lot of effort to sit up, the aches and pains from the cuts and bruises the tide and ocean floor left on him finally showing themselves after the initial numbness of cold started to wear off. A lifeguard, probably the one that saved his life, came over to his left side to help him up, Shiro doing the same on his other side. Everything hurt on the outside, and key elements of his insides were also hurting. That didn’t stop Keith from trying until he could bark out a ‘thank you’ to the lifeguard. Not just for helping him stand, but for the work she had done in saving his life.

She smiled at him; it was warm like the sun, “Just doing my job, kid. We all were.” her hand gestured to the other lifeguards strewn around talking to paramedics, guarding the beach entrances, and hovering around both him and Lance. 

Keith gave her a smile in return, voice coming out as more of a croak, “Pass it around?” he asked, Shiro couldn’t help but smile too.

“Can do.” she gave him a thumbs up, “Be safe, okay? No more ignoring the whistles.” Whistles, he hadn’t even heard them. He had tunnel vision at the worst times. He wondered if Lance heard them. Lance’s panicked face reappearing in his mind gave him his answer.

Shiro nudging him along brought him out of his thoughts, “Think you can walk?”

“Yeah.” Was his immediate response, urging his right foot to take the first step. He managed, if a little wobbly. He was glad that he had Shiro and Sandy, the appropriately named lifeguard, were there to keep him from toppling over. 

The walk to the ambulance would’ve been slower if Keith wasn’t determined, but he had a much safer competition to win. It was futile though, Lance was already in the ambulance by the time Keith was fifteen feet away. He did try to get in with little to no help though, just to show that he could. He managed, thumping down onto the bench seats next to Lance. He had to pull the shock blanket out from under himself with a little wiggling so it could settle around his shoulders comfortably. Lance glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, but was currently in an in depth, if one-sided, conversation with the larger boy that had been all over him like a mother hen. 

“I’m just saying, Lance, you need to listen more. What would have happened if--” His face contorted as tears threatened to spill, “No, nope, we’re not going to think about that. Just listen, okay? You hear, but don’t listen.” Lance looked guilty, guilty and tired, but he nodded. He seemed like he was actually listening. 

Keith didn’t realize he was watching their conversation until the words were drowned out with Shiro’s gaining his attention, “Listen, Keith. I’m going to be right behind you. It’s not a short ride to the hospital, but it’s not a really long one either. I’ll be behind you though, I’ll meet you there. Okay?” Keith nodded, sure that once the initial worry and concern wore off, Shiro would lecture him much like Lance’s friend. Shiro was level headed in situations where anyone else would lose their cool. Keith appreciated that he was allowed the time to feel physically shitty before he was made to feel guilty. That would come later. 

Shiro gave his shoulder a squeeze and looked him in the eye, holding his gaze. Relief poured out of it, making Keith feel a little warmer, even if his body still trembled involuntarily at the cold. In the ambulance, he didn’t have the sun to use like a heat lamp.

“I can take you.” Shiro said, turning away from Keith to address Lance’s friend, Hunk, as he introduced himself, tearfully thanking Shiro for the offer. He and Lance had walked to the beach, so there wasn’t a way for him to reach the hospital without public transport or emergency service escort.

“We’ll be right behind you.” Shiro said finally, stepping back onto the sand, he looked between both boys, making sure each acknowledged him before he patted Hunk on the shoulder and lead the way to his car. Hunk turned around no less than five times on the way to check on Lance. Lance waved every time, offering a smile to show he was okay. 

A medical technician entered the vehicle, assessing that everything was fit for travel and took a seat on the chair adjacent to the gurney across from them. He smiled at the boys, “Doing okay?”

Keith nodded, he was cold, his lungs and throat hurt, his body was definitely bruised in multiple places, but he was okay. While his assessments were all mental, Lance moved beside him, stretching out his arms and legs, wiggling his fingers and toes, taking a deep breath, then letting out a squawk when it didn’t work the way he wanted it to. He winced but smiled, giving a thumbs up. 

“That’ll go away,” the EMT chuckled, “you boys are going to be just fine.” He turned his head to talk to the driver then. The van rumbled as it started, for a few minutes, Keith closed his eyes, willing his body to heat up underneath the blanket. The ride over the sand was bumpy, his shoulder collided with Lance’s a few times, which probably bothered him more than Lance. The boy was all bones. 

His eyes opened when he felt something across his lap. It was just as obnoxiously neon as the blanket around his shoulders. The med tech hadn’t moved, still staring out the windshield and talking with the driver, which meant that the blanket came from elsewhere. The bony shoulder was back, pressing against his on the other side of the crinkly blanket, this time there was also a bony elbow and a bony hip against his. No wonder he had been swept away so easily by the current, a strong gust of wind could probably knock him over. 

Huddling together made more sense. They could create more heat between the two of them than they could separately. Keith pushed his blanket off his left shoulder, pushing it towards his cold companion. Lance eagerly wrapped it around his shoulders, tugging it around his front so that he was curled around his own arms.

They were looking at each other then. Thirty seconds must have passed before Lance’s mouth twitched, his shoulders shaking up and down as he held in laughter. Keith normally would’ve thought it strange, instead he found himself smiling, laughter bubbling up despite the ache in his throat. They were laughing together, about the absurdity of the situation? Probably. Maybe it was just the shock. Either way, they spend a solid minute just laughing around coughs, causing raised eyebrows from the other person in the back with them. He’d seen stranger things though, so he didn’t question it.

“Why are you laughing?” Keith managed to get out, “We almost died!”

“You’re laughing too!” Lance’s voice sounded like gravel, that’s probably how it felt too.

“Yeah, but only because you started it!” Keith spluttered.

Lance’s shoulders bounced as he stifled a giggle, “But I totally won!”

“What?”

“I was the farthest out.”

Keith stared at him, mouth hanging open, waiting for some retort to form, but he was drawing a blank. Lance was ridiculous. Lance was laughing and smiling and they almost died, but Lance was still claiming victory.

“You’re ridiculous.” Keith barely managed to say it before he was laughing again. 

“You’re not denying it.” Lance quipped, jabbing a finger at Keith’s arm.

“Whatever makes this near death experience feel better for you.”

Keith did feel warmer after that. It made the most sense to attribute it to their sharing blankets, but he thought it might have to do with the fact that Lance made him laugh. Somehow, he’d made Keith laugh after he almost killed him.


	2. Dredging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling really inspired to write this again, so I jumped on that and finished chapter two. Most of this chapter was written right after chapter one, but I'm going to try and get back into writing this. I think I have a strong base as far as planning goes, so it's just sitting down to write that really gets me.   
> This was all planned out prior to season 2 coming out, so the family relations around Keith will still be played out the way I've written them before.  
> Sorry for such a long gap! Now that summer is arriving quickly, I'm feeling much more connected to this fic's atmosphere.  
> Next chapter will be from Lance's point of view, so that'll be exciting!  
> Thank you for reading!!

The hospital was nice, as far as hospitals go. Keith had been in several before, so it was nothing new to him. He found the beeping of heart monitors and squeaks of nurses’ shoes on the linoleum soothing. Everything was bright, and if he didn’t have adequate time to adjust, it would’ve been excruciating. The tiles reflected the fluorescent lights and the walls were white, the metal rails tucked down on his hospital bed didn’t help either. He had a massive headache and couldn’t wait for the nurses that fussed over him to leave.

The first thing he did when they brought him into his room was answer questions, be looked over, tested on almost all of his bodily functions, and hooked up to an IV, as was customary to all of the visits he seemed to have. The second thing that he did was sleep. Nearly drowning was exhausting, and when the last nurse left and turned out the light, Keith was also lights out. Shiro told him before he fell asleep that he would be back as soon as he could. Being in a wetsuit in a hospital wasn’t exactly an ideal situation.

Keith didn’t mind. It let him sleep in peace without a watchful eye on him. He fell into sleep and it reminded him of the ocean, of space, and of the weightlessness and calm he felt. This time though, he knew he was safe. He’d made it out of one crisis, and now he was healing. 

His sleep was dreamless, and he woke ten hours later. His brother, arms crossed and head tilted back, was asleep in a chair across the room. Keith pressed the button to call in the nurse. He was eager to get out. He felt much, much better by the time he’d woken up. His throat still hurt and his nose stung, but he could breathe without them causing him too much grief. Whatever was left in his lungs he would bring up eventually, one cough, he learned, led to another, into a fit, but he could manage. The tests they had done and the IV he was receiving must have been enough for them to discharge him. At least, he hoped. 

A nurse with a kind smile and kinder eyes poked her head around the neutral toned curtain. She glanced at Shiro in the corner and kept her voice quiet as she approached the bed.

“Was there something you needed?” She asked, the bags under her eyes from too many night shifts were clearly visible, but she still regarded him with patience and genuine care.

His headache had dulled considerably, and he thanked whatever deity there might be that he could talk, “When can I leave?” He asked bluntly, catching the smile turning sympathetic. His voice still sounded off, still hurt his throat, but at least he could get the words out.

“I’ll go see what Dr. Evans thinks, but looking at your vitals, I’m sure we can get you out of here soon. Shouldn’t be more than an hour.” She told him slowly, looking at the clock with great concentration.

“Do I still have to be hooked up to all of this stuff? I think my arm is asleep.” Keith attempted to lift the arm with the IV poking out of it, then the other one. “You know what, I think my whole body is asleep.” Pins and needles erupted from every limb he shifted. They felt heavy still, but he imagined that it was from sleep rather than what happened. He hissed at the feeling, trying to adjust as slowly as possible to ease the feeling but still return blood to the rest of his body.

“I’ll get you all ready to go after I speak to the doctor, I want to make sure you’ll be alright to go home before I undo everything. I can go ask right after I check on another patient.” Keith felt thankful before another thought set in.

“Is...uh--” He struggled to remember the boy from the shore’s name. He’d heard it spoken many times in the ambulance, and before that by Hunk, whose name was easy to remember by the way he was built. The term ‘beach hunk’ was not lost on him. “Lance! Lance, is Lance okay?”

The sudden outburst startled Shiro from his nap, one that was only about an hour and a half long. “Keith? You’re awake, are you okay?”

“Fine, how is he?” He answered quickly, turning his attention back to the nurse with honey blonde hair. “Did he go home?”

“The boy you came in with? He’s doing just fine. Asleep last I saw him.” She assured, “I’ll have someone check on him to see if he’s awake yet. I’m sure his friend would have rang us by now if he was though. That boy’s a worrier.” 

Keith let out a sigh of relief, staring down at the clinically white blanket covering his legs, “Good.”

“What’s going on medically speaking, is Keith okay to go home?” Shiro asked from his seat, a hard looking chair with wooden arm rests, it couldn’t have been comfortable for such a long time. Keith threw a lopsided frown at it. How dare it make his brother uncomfortable.

“I was just going to see if he’s able to be released. I’ll have someone come in soon with the news. Is there anything else I can get you?” Keith shook his head, with that, Diane, as her ID badge told him, turned on her heel and moved past the curtain again, “Call if you need anything!”

Shiro moved from his spot, stretching his legs out. At least when he’d gone home, he picked something comfortable to laze around in a hospital in: a pair of grey sweatpants stained with paint and an old t-shirt from college. He must have noticed Keith sizing him up because he nudged a backpack by the foot of his chair, “Don’t worry, I grabbed you clothes too. And snacks, those granola bars you like.”

“I’m going to eat fifty of them, and you can’t stop me.” Keith said flatly, extending the hand that wasn’t attached to a cord out and wiggling his fingers at the bag.

The other let out a small chuckle and reached down to open the second biggest pocket of the bag. The sound of crinkling wrappers reminded Keith of the fact that his stomach had been empty for nearly twelve hours now. He didn’t catch the first granola bar tossed to him, or the second or the third or the fourth, by the fifth, Shiro was done teasing him and handed him three granola bars, instructing him to eat what he could, but not to overdo it.

“Hope you have forty-two more granola bars in that bag, ‘cause you’re about to eat your words. Fiddling with the wrapper with one hand was easier said than done. “Shiro,” he said without any other indication of what he needed. Having already picked up the bars that had made it onto the floor, Shiro held his hand out, opening the packaging quickly, seamlessly down the middle of the back, right where it was supposed to. Keith always pulled off corners, wrestling with the package until the bar inside was impacted by the action, even when he wasn’t out one arm.

As far as food went, Keith didn’t think anything could have been more perfect in that moment. The bar itself was covered in chocolate, which helped the rest of it go down easier, coating his throat so that it felt at least a little smoother. Coconut overtook the grains and even the almonds in the bar; the whole thing tasted like an almond joy, something a candy junky like him appreciated.

He ate the first bar too fast, it settling in his stomach like a rock, he took care to eat the next bar slower. He was just glad he didn’t have to try and down one of those hospital quality sandwiches that they give you on horribly dry bread. He didn’t think that would go down well. He did nudge his brother and request jello though. Shiro smiled and replied that he’d go out once they made it home to buy him a whole pack of jello. Keith made him promise it would be pineapple, with chunks in it. Straight up jello always seemed weird to him.

By his third granola bar, Nurse Diane had returned with good news and a sly smile. She announced that Keith was given the green light to be discharged and told Shiro to stop by the desk before they left to work out a payment plan and deal with the insurance. Her movements were quick and calculated as she checked Keith’s temperature once more, listened to his chest, and removed the needle from his arm. One last blood pressure test and she was helping him out of the bed, Shiro on Keith’s other side to steady him.

Keith’s legs felt simultaneously like jelly and stiff, like the ocean was still knocking him over. He didn’t realize how sore he was until he was up on his feet. His face must have shown it, because Shiro wrapped an arm around his waist to take most of the strain off him. 

“Can you make it? We could get you a wheelchair.” He was about to insist that to the nurse when Keith cut him off.

“No, I got it. I’ve gotta walk sometime, might as well get a head start.” He flashed a smile his crutch’s way and attempted to take more of his weight back, wiggling his way across the room as a test drive. He still had to sit down in that damn uncomfortable chair to pull his clothes on though, before he leaned down to take his clothes from the bag Shiro brought, Diane cleared her throat, pulling a slip of paper out of her pocket. She took Keith’s hand and placed the note in it.

“Your friend asked me to give you this.” She stated with a smile before making her way out of the little room, “Remember, the door out is to the left, straight down the hall!”

Keith watched her go before opening up the folded slip, confusion fell over his features and Shiro tried to peer over his shoulder at the paper. Keith easily moved it so he couldn’t see the numbers slanted distinctly to the left, almost curling around the page in an arc.  
‘XXX-XXX-XXXX  
xoxo,  
Lance’

Keith’s mouth turned upward on one side. He supposed that their shared experience definitely warranted some communication afterwards. He would text Lance when he got home, too focused on getting out of the hospital to do anything but hurriedly, as hurriedly as he could with slow limbs, get into his clothes. Shiro had definitely been thinking of his comfort with the baggy flannel pants and two sweatshirts he’d given him.

“You can put the hoodie on first and pull the sweatshirt overtop, I can help if you--”

“I got it.” Keith interrupted, pulling the clothes over his head in the order he was instructed, even if he looked ridiculous, he knew he would be warm. There was still a chill he could feel in his bones, any protection that could ebb it away was welcome. As his head popped out of the second sweatshirt, he noticed just how in the way his hair was, static having made it worse than the bed head he was already dealing with. “Got a hair tie?”

“Always do.” Shiro pulled up the sleeve of the zip up hoodie he’d adorned while Diane was out of the room to reveal two black bands of elastic on his wrist. He took everything about Keith into account, and it warmed the boy’s heart, helping to chase away the coldness that settled in his chest. His guardian knew him so well, which made sense, he raised him for a significant portion of his life, learning all of the ticks and tocks that made Keith, well, Keith. He knew that Keith never had a hair tie but frequently tied up his hair when he wanted to focus on something. He knew that Keith was pig-headed and gave him help in the most subtle ways he could manage. Above all, he knew that Keith appreciated him, and even though he didn’t make it known with words, the look on his face said enough.

Keith tried to untangle his hair at least a little, failing miserably, and resigned himself to just tying the mess back to get it off his neck. He used the chair to stand up on his own, breathing out in a long exhale to try and ease the pain. It took a moment of shifting his weight between either of his legs to ready himself for walking. It would be a slow shuffle out of the hospital and to the car, but it was a shuffle he could do on his own, content in the fact that if he did happen to fall, Shiro was there to catch him. In the unlikely chance that he wasn’t, at least they were already at the hospital.

A trip to the desk, an almost fall, and a few curse words later, Keith managed to get to one of the columns outside where he waited for Shiro to bring the car around. It was a good thing, he wouldn’t admit it, but he shared his brother’s uncertainty at his ability to make it up the hill to where the little car was parked, still stuffed with beach supplies.

Around him the chill of night breezed by him, interrupting the heavy, humid air of Florida. It was October, but it still managed to be hot. The stars were covered by clouds, it must have rained while Keith was sleeping, the plants were still wet. Or maybe that was just the water in the air weighing them down. It made Keith a little uncomfortable, remembering the water in his lungs, but this was soothing in its own way. The liquid in the air wasn’t salty, it was like a waterfall, if Keith was honest, he had three to compare it to, and the feeling of being refreshed was fairly accurate for this situation. Breathing in cooled his throat, making the sting of it rubbed raw by the ocean water a little less biting. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a car door being pushed out in his direction, and he realized he’d been staring, mouth agape, at the sky. He rubbed at his cheek and reached out for the door frame to steady him as he flumped down into the seat, pleather creaking quietly under his weight. By his feet was the bag Shiro had in the hospital room; Keith pulled at it for another granola bar while Shiro started them on the way home. Among the sizeable amount of granola bars, Keith’s phone charm caught on the perforated cardboard box. He tugged on the plastic UFO until he fished his phone from the depths of the backpack and unlocked his screen, a picture of Pluto’s heart bearing surface lighting up behind the digital clock. Pluto was Shiro’s favorite planet, so when NASA released the photos captured by New Horizons, Keith and Shiro synced their lock screens, Pluto and Mars.

The note in his sweatpants’ pocket was burning a hole in it, he fished out the slip of paper and typed out a new message to Lance. Normally he would’ve waited to be texted, rather than text the other person, but Lance didn’t have his number. 

Without thinking too much on it, he sent ‘we almost died.’ Then he locked his screen and rested his head on the window, closing his eyes until they got back to the house they were renting for the week. He didn’t bother going up the stairs to his room, instead laid face down on the couch and stayed there all night, getting the best sleep of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> check out the inspiration for this fic, this wonderful 8tracks mix: http://8tracks.com/hakaeijis/bring-me-home-to-the-ocean
> 
> All comments are appreciated so much! Let me know if there are any mistakes and I'll happily fix them!
> 
> Thank you for reading!!!!


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